


Losing My Head Over You

by Kildysart



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:14:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kildysart/pseuds/Kildysart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A relatively angst-free and goofy version of Jane and Maura finally getting together, plus some decidedly impressive deduction work by the ME on a gnarly case.  Try not to lose patience looking for the M stuff--our ladies get to it eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wager

**Author's Note:**

> The characters and setup are not mine and never were; they are solely the property of whoever owns the Rizzoli & Isles TV series and Tess Gerritsen's book from which that series was developed. I'm very grateful that those owners are of a generous mindset and don't seem to begrudge fan fic folk their borrowing them for the occasional romp. Thank you all so much!

Dr. Maura Isles, Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, was already on the scene of a violent death in a posh, suburban garage when Detectives Jane Rizzoli and Barry Frost arrived. Despite the ridiculously early hour, Maura's hair was perfectly coifed and her makeup expertly applied. Jane, on the other hand, looked like she'd fallen out of bed on her curly head. Frost looked sick to his stomach, an appearance that proved telling when he made a U-turn at the door and was heard distantly to be retching in the backyard bushes.

“Poor Barry,” Maura murmured to Jane as they both bent over the corpse that Maura's gloved hands were attempting to examine without contaminating any more of the blood-soaked clothing than necessary. It was a messy death, as beheadings normally are.

“That immersion therapy you've been doing with him doesn't seem to be helping control his gag reflex,” Jane murmured back, ostensibly leaning over Maura's shoulder to view the corpse, but the nearness making it possible for them to communicate without being heard by the others. _Sure,_ Jane told herself, _that's why you're hovering over her. Has nothing to do with her smelling so damned good._

“This one is a bit more of a challenge than most, wouldn't you say, Detective?” Maura murmured back. “Decapitation, culturally speaking, triggers a particularly strong sense of revulsion.”

Jane straightened and peered about the large four-car garage swarming with crime scene technicians. The photographer had come, done her thing, and was standing by outside for any further photo requests the detectives or the ME might raise. “Yeah. Movies like Omen and Friday 13th may have had something to do with that cultural thing. Have you examined the head?” Jane asked as she carefully stepped over a wide stream of blood congealing on the finished cement floor and stood near the prodigal part.

“No apparent wounds,” Maura intoned, her attention still fixed on the body. She looked up, tilted her face toward Jane, and amended, “Well, except for the obvious one...”

Jane grimaced, but it could have been a smirk. “Yeah, got that, Maura.”

“I won't know for sure until we get back to the Morgue, but on preliminary examination I couldn't even find an impact site for where the head landed on the floor.”

“So,” Jane asked, frowning at the head as she shined a penlight flashlight over it, “he wasn't standing or up very high when it happened?”

“I wouldn't care to make that assumption at this time, Detective,” Maura shot back, with the slightest hint of exasperation in her voice—but it could have simply been from the exertion of standing after crouching for so long over the body.

“Of course, you wouldn't, Doctor,” Jane grinned over at the beautiful blonde in the impeccably tailored trench coat that Jane estimated would have cost more than she could get for her own car, if she could imagine any sucker buying that bucket of bolts.

“But,” Maura continued as though she'd not been rudely interrupted, and stepped gracefully over the gore-slathered area to where Jane squatted by the head, “I can see from the blood spatter patterns—especially where it sprayed on the underside of the bumper—that he could have been kneeling to look under the car.”

Jane nodded her agreement as her gaze followed Maura's hand pointing along the bumper. Jane had noticed the blood on the bumper already. Now she was just watching Maura's expressive hand move through the air.

She was brought back to reality by the raspy voice of a post-sick Barry Frost: “No weapon yet?”

Maura, removing her gloves, stepped back over to Frost and gently patted his arm. “Not yet, Detective.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice, “How are you?”

“Okay,” he croaked. This one was going to be a particularly difficult one for Barry. Still, he soldiered on, “Jane, uniforms ID'd him already. His housekeeper found him. Name's Glen Beckdahl. Lives here alone except for the housekeeper.”

“Is the housekeeper here now?”

“She's in the kitchen. Pretty shook up. She found him when she came to see why the lights were still on.”

Jane nodded. “Okay, I guess we should go talk to her.” Jane looked over to Maura, who had wandered over to the wall next to the nearest of the four garage doors and was donning a fresh pair of gloves. “Maura, this looks like a really clean cut, don't you think? What would it take to slice off a grown man's head this neatly?”

Maura shook her head without turning back to the detective. She was obviously engrossed with something on the wall. “At this stage, I don't think I could accurately conjecture, Detective. I agree it appears to be the result of high force and keen blade, but I need to wait until I can examine the body under good lighting and with appropriate instruments.” She tilted her head and called over to her technician, “Ann, ask the photographer to come in for a shot of this in context, will you? Then let's get some swabs of it.”

“Good eye, Maura,” Jane grinned as she walked over to stand by Maura. “This blood's far enough away from the rest that it might not be his, but it's just as fresh. Could be our perp hurt himself?”

“You're assuming this is blood, aren't you.” It was a flat statement, not a question really. Maura was practically glaring at the excited Detective.

Jane took a deep breath and murmured to herself, “Do we _have_ to do this every time?” Turning to Maura, Jane immediately found her irritation devolving to something with an evil tickle in it as those hazel eyes continued to flash back at Jane. “Right, Maura, it's a bright red splat of something in a garage full of bright red goo but let's not assume it's the same kind of bright red goo that's everywhere else!” Jane just couldn't help herself. If she were _less_ professional, she'd have reached over and tweaked Maura's nose.

“Exactly, Detective, let's _not_ assume that,” Maura growled low enough that the photographer couldn't hear their argument. Barry was close enough to pick up on the exchange, however, and he was grinning ear-to-ear, his dyspepsia vanishing with the glee of watching the two spar.

“Okay,” Jane leaned in toward Maura and, her voice matching the quiet tone, egged her on further. “How much you wanna bet it's _not_ blood, Maura?”

“Are you serious? Jane, this is a crime scene.”

“Oh, come on, just a little wager?” Jane's voice dipped to an even deeper register than usual, a sound that could have even been called sultry.

Maura's face changed from mild shock to something else, something that made those hazel eyes focus on Jane's dark eyes like a pair of laser beams. “Fine, _Detective_. If that substance is blood, I'll get us the best seats to a Red Sox game you've ever had.”

Jane's expression immediately altered. “No, wait, Maura. I'm just messing with you. I don't want you to have to lay out that kind of money!”

Maura's eyebrows raised and her perfect lips slid sideways into a smirk that she could have only learned from hanging out with the Rizzolis. “Backing out, Jane? Chicken?”

“No, but Maura, we both know it's blood. I'm not gonna sucker you like that.” Jane looked so serious when she was being righteous. It made Maura smile all the wider.

“You're making an _assumption_ , Detective, something I have repeatedly tried to discourage in your technique for some time now. This might be my chance to make the lesson stick. Put up or shut up.”

Jane stared down at the blonde and a slow flush spread up her neck to her cheeks. _Oh, be careful, Rizzoli, don't let her see what that smile is doing to you. But, fuck, she is so cute when she's riled!_

Maura, observing Jane's expression, turned to Frost with, “Barry, did I say that incorrectly?”

“No, Doc, you said it just right. But, you _have_ neglected one part of the action. What's Jane going to pay out if it's _not_ blood?”

“Hmmm. If it is not blood,” Maura's eyes narrowed as she considered and Jane's expression changed again to one that might have displayed a hint of trepidation. “If it isn't blood, Jane must accompany me to the opera on a night of my choosing.”

“Those aren't exactly even stakes, Doc, unless the opera's gotten a lot more expensive,” Frost noted.

“Oh, it won't cost Jane a thing, Barry, I have season tickets,” Maura smiled. “You can't turn down a wager like that, Detective Rizzoli, can you?”

“Fine. But I don't want you getting the best Fenway seats for us, Maura. That's just too much,” Jane capitulated.

“Fine. But in that case, we're elevating _your_ stakes. I get to pick what you wear to the opera.”

There was no sense bringing up the fact that Maura wasn't structuring this bet along traditional lines—the detective knew what kind of frustration that would bring on and that capitulation was the saner path. “Whatever. Never happen.”

Jane turned away to watch Ann carefully pack the now bright red swab into the sample bag. She was beginning to get an unfamiliar, sinking sensation. Something was trying to remind her that, where red stains were concerned, Maura was far more knowledgeable. Hell, Maura was far more knowledgeable about almost everything outside of pop culture, sports and how to lie without getting hives or fainting.

“Aren't we supposed to spit into our palms and shake?” Maura winked at Barry with a mischievous grin.

“What? No!” Jane shook her head adamantly. “Bet's on. Let's get back to work.” And it seemed like, since she'd been hanging around with Jane, Maura was catching up too quickly on the pop culture knowledge.

“Fine,” Maura grinned, almost evilly, Jane thought, and turned to her technician. “Ann, can you hand me a hemastick?”

Ann grinned just as evilly, glancing at the detectives, and handed Maura a stick that, once Maura swiped it through the red goo on the wall, quite obviously did not turn green. _Is it blood if I turn green?_ Jane's sinking feeling was intensifying.

“Let's see one of the swabs, too,” Maura asked the technician. Ann pulled out a swab, ran it through what was left of the red goo on the wall, and sprayed the swab. When there was no change in color, Ann picked up another spray and tried that. If it had been blood, they all knew it should have turned pink.

Her head tilted in what was obviously faux sympathy (or sheer cockiness), Maura simply whispered, “Voila.”

 


	2. Is That a Machete In Your Pocket?

“You know, Jane, as polite as Mrs. Zalinsky was trying to be, I still got the feeling she didn't think Beckdahl's death would be a huge loss to the planet.” Frost leaned on their cruiser at the passenger-side door and waited a beat for Jane to remotely unlock the doors.

“Yeah, you picked up on that too, huh?” Jane grinned back over at him.

“Officers? Can I talk to you?”

Both detectives looked over at an older man approaching from across the street. He seemed a tad nervous or laboring with respiratory problems as he stopped on the street side of the cruiser and looked up at Jane.

“Uniformed officers will be going door-to-door to get any information neighbors have to give us, Mr. ____?”

“Allyk, Jerry Allyk. Live in that house across the street,” he wheezed and pointed behind him. “I don't have time to wait for them to come around, officer, I have a busy schedule today. Can't I simply tell you what I know?”

“Sure, why not, Mr. Allyk. What do you have for us?” Jane twitched her cruiser-side eyebrow at Frost to let him know she had it and hit the remote to let him into the car as she pulled out her notebook.

“That Asian gardener of Beckdahl's had a big fight with him last week. Did you know that?”

“I did not know that. How did _you_ happen to know that, Mr. Allyk?” Jane saw Frost pop back up out of the cruiser. One of the things that made him a good partner: he had an accurate ear for leads.

“Saw it! Heard it! Couldn't miss it. Little shi-- uh, guy was yelling 'til he was so red in the face I thought he'd bust. Claimed Beckdahl was cheating him. Looked mad enough to kill, you know what I mean?”

“Do you happen to know the gardener's name, or if he was around yesterday or this morning?”

“Haven't seen him since they had the screaming match. Don't know his name. But I heard there was lots of blood in the garage,” Allyk continued, peering around Jane and up toward the house.

Jane followed his gaze, then looked over at the house Allyk had indicated was his. He could have, with a good pair of binoculars, seen into the garage while they were working the scene. “Who told you what the garage looked like?”

Allyk shuffled his feet and shrugged. “Another neighbor. Saw it when poor Mrs. Zalinsky, Beckdahl's housekeeper, started screaming.”

“Your house is directly across from the crime scene,” Frost observed. “You see anything yourself last night or this morning? Anyone over there with Beckdahl, for instance?”

“Nope. I keep to myself, mostly. Don't pay much attention to my neighbors' business,” he groused, shaking his head.

“Well, thanks for the information, Mr. Allyk. Can you spell your name for me?”

He did, then added, “You'll want to take a look at his machete. The one he likes to use on the ornamental grasses at the end of winter.”

 _Well, okay. That's interesting_ , Jane thought.

\---

The gardener's name was Nguyen and Mrs. Zalinsky had given them his name and address already when they'd asked about other household staff or contractors. She was visibly upset when Rizzoli and Frost went back to the house and asked her about the argument Beckdahl had with Mr. Nguyen. She finally blurted, “It was that nosey Mr. Allyk told you about it, wasn't it? He's so prejudiced, he'd suspect his own son if his eyes were slanted! Mr. Nguyen's a good man, a kind and gentle man. He put up with a lot from Mr. Beckdahl over the years and I'm telling you, he wouldn't hurt a fly if it was chewing on the roses!”

“I appreciate that information, Mrs. Zalinsky,” Jane tried to keep her voice respectful. “But we have to follow up on any leads we get. Do you know what the argument was about?”

The older woman looked stricken, obviously finding herself faced with a dilemma. “Yes.”

Jane felt a tingle of excitement but it was colored with trepidation. Whatever this woman knew, the housekeeper felt it would cast Nguyen in a bad light and that the gardener didn't deserve that. Jane knew both were almost equally useful pieces of information. “Please tell me what the argument was about, Mrs. Zalinsky.”

“Mr. Beckdahl refused to pay Mr. Nguyen for the hours he put in on the yard while Mr. Beckdahl was away. It was for a whole month,” she cried, her palms upraised. “Mr. Beckdahl didn't tell Mr. Nguyen or me to cancel the yard work while he was away. He'd never done so before, so why would either of us think he didn't want the lawn mowed for a whole month in the summer?”

“Why didn't Mr. Nguyen take him to court?” Frost asked.

Mrs. Zalinsky wouldn't look at either of them. She shrugged, pulling herself in tightly, an old-world kind of gesture Rizzoli recognized from her childhood standing unobserved but observing on the periphery of much older relatives' gossipy conversations, their Italian vowels curling around their expressive, ever-moving hands. “I don't know. It's just not the kind of thing Mr. Nguyen would do.”

\---

“You know she was lying, right?” Frost asked as they belted themselves into the cruiser. “About not knowing why Nguyen didn't sue?”

Jane glanced up at neighbor Allyk's house and saw the twin dark disks of his binoculars disappear from the window as the curtain fell back into place. “Yeah. Beckdahl must have had something on Nguyen. You getting the impression that Beckdahl was a nasty piece of work?”

“Yeah, but I'm hoping he wasn't as nasty as I suspect he might have been. Makes it harder to haul the perp in when the vic's a total slimeball.”

Jane frowned but nodded. Another sure sign that their partnership was gelling: neither would have admitted such an unprofessional sentiment to anyone else. _Well,_ Jane mused, _I guess I'd tell Maura. Yeah, Maura would understand._

They proceeded to Nguyen's address, a house in a commercial district that included a large outbuilding. Nguyen didn't deny the argument. “Yes, I was very upset with Mr. Beckdahl. After all the years I've worked for him, I couldn't understand why he would refuse to pay me for my work.”

“That must have made you really angry,” Jane said mildly, watching Nguyen's expression. “Angry enough to kill him?”

“What? What are you saying?”

“Beckdahl is dead, Mr. Nguyen,” Frost leaned in, just as calmly.

“What? How? You think someone killed him? You think I killed him?”

“Don't say anything else, Dad,” a petite young woman stepped through the wide doorway of the outbuilding and stood with her arms crossed next to her father.

“And you are...?” Jane asked.

“Anh Nguyen, his daughter. What's this about?”

Jane introduced herself and Frost, then continued to question the father. While she spoke, often interrupted by the daughter who was obviously protective of her father, Frost let his attention wander.

“Mr. Nguyen, is that a real machete over there?”

“What? Yes, Detective. It's very handy for shaping ornamental grasses, trimming off the old, dry leaves at the end of winter. Makes room for the new green growth.”

“May I see it?” Frost asked, smiling.

“Of course.” Nguyen walked over to the wall where the huge blade hung by a leather strap attached to the handle. Jane watched his daughter frown suspiciously.

“Dad, they should have a search warrant before you let them...”

Nguyen looked back at his daughter in mild amusement, “Hush, Anh. I don't need them to have a warrant. Whatever you want to look at, detectives.”

He reached for the machete, but Frost touched Nguyen's forearm, stopping him from touching the tool. Nguyen looked confused, but stepped back obediently when Frost gestured him away. He pulled out a handkerchief, lifted the machete by its leather strap and turned toward Jane with a sad, serious expression. “Reddish-brown deposit on the blade near the handle.”

Jane was fairly certain the daughter would have taken a swing at one or both of them if her father hadn't intervened. She watched with interest as Nguyen became what he probably thought was stern but wouldn't have come close to Angela Rizzoli's level of intensity when verbally reprimanding one of her kids. Still, Anh backed down under her father's gentle remonstration, despite her obvious disgust with the whole Boston Police Dept. and the two detectives in particular. She did insist that her father say nothing about the machete. She also insisted on riding in the back of the cruiser with her father when they took him into custody.

Frost looked at Jane questioningly when she gave him a surreptitious head shake as he reached for his handcuffs. His eyebrows practically crawled into his hairline when Jane opened the back door of the cruiser and let Anh in first, then her father. “Seriously, Frost? What do you think they'll do? Chew the grate off and strangle us? Look at him: he's miserable and worried and she's terrified. There's more here than we're gonna get by playing the gestapo gangsters.”

Frost took the machete directly down to Maura while Jane took Nguyen into an interrogation room. She let Anh cool her heels in a waiting room off the hall.

“So tell me what you think that reddish-brown stuff on the machete blade is, Mr. Nguyen,” Jane started off her questioning.

“I had to kill a vole the other day. A cat had caught it, mangled it so much it couldn't have lived, but it was still living when I got it away from the cat. I couldn't let it just suffer.” He looked at Jane across the table as though begging her to understand. “It's not illegal to kill a vole, especially to save it from suffering, Detective.”

 _Shit. That's probably exactly what it is, too._ “Why didn't you sue Mr. Beckdahl when he didn't pay you?”

Nguyen's face froze. He stared at the wall just past Jane's head and refused to look her in the eye.

“Mr. Nguyen? Please answer my question.”

Slowly, he moved his eyes, but not his head, and met Jane's gaze. “I didn't want to pay a lawyer. Too expensive. I thought Mr. Beckdahl would eventually become ashamed for not paying me.”

“Ashamed? Was he the kind of man who could feel shame, Mr. Nguyen?”

He stared at Jane for just a tick and she knew he was reading her. Then his eyes shifted away. “One always hopes people will change for the better.”

“Do you have any idea who might have killed Mr. Beckdahl?”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “No, Detective. I don't think I can help you with that.”

They sat quietly for a few seconds. Then Jane stood. “Then I have no more questions for you, Mr. Nguyen. If you don't mind, we'll need to keep the machete until the substance on it is identified. If it is, as you say, animal blood, we'll know very shortly and you can take it with you, okay?”

He stared at Jane as though he didn't understand at first, then stood. “Thank you, Detective, that will be fine.”

As they exited the interrogation room, Maura and Frost were stepping out of the elevator down the hall. Frost was holding the machete's handle, the blade covered by a black, plastic bag and apparently padded for safety beneath the plastic. Mr. Nguyen appeared unworried as he recognized Frost. Jane asked him to step into the waiting area to join his daughter, then went to meet Frost and Maura.

“Let me make an assumption, Maura. It was blood of vole on the machete,” Jane looked down at the blonde.

Maura tilted her head and a slow smile blossomed. “Wow, your powers of deduction are becoming quite remarkable, Detective. I've only narrowed it to 'not human' blood so far. It would take a few days to achieve the specificity your uncanny ability has achieved.”

“Maura, you scare me when you do sarcasm,” Jane intoned.

“I learn from the best, Jane,” Maura winked and Jane was sure she saw a bit of flirt in the gesture. “Oh, and an additional reason the machete isn't our murder weapon: the incision was made by two blades scissoring together smoothly, not just one.”

“How about two machetes,” Frost hypothesized, “Like, one in each hand?”

“I doubt most humans would have that kind of control, Barry. The strength it would take to cut through muscle and spine, the velocity at which it would have to be accomplished, in order to make such a synchronized, accurate, single cut with two independent blades coming perfectly together from either side... No, I would look for a very large tool, shaped like loppers. You'd also need them to operate at an angle that would be rather difficult for a human, I think.”

“Maura, are we talking about a machine?” Jane looked incredulously at the ME.

“Actually, I'm thinking that's a possibility, Jane.”

“Okay, something tells me we're going to need a warrant to look through the rest of that tool shed where the machete was,” Frost grumbled.

Jane knew that was going to be a fruitless search. They'd not seen anything on the scale Maura was describing while they were in the Nguyens' shed. Still, they had to look. “Better try for the grounds and the house, too, while you're at it, Frost.”

Somebody's stomach growled and Jane was pretty sure it was hers. Maura looked sympathetically at the two detectives.

“You're both planning to work this case until you drop, aren't you? Why don't I pick up some healthy take-out and meet you back at your desks for lunch? Barry, let Vince know I'll get enough for all four of us, will you?”

“How healthy we talkin' here, Maura?” Jane asked, as she took the machete from Frost. “I think I need something more than vole food. I didn't get breakfast...”

“Wow, Jane, you are literally biting the hand that's offering to feed you,” Frost glared at her, then turned to Maura. “I will happily accept whatever food you so generously bring me, Maura. In fact, I'm tempted to ask you to marry me!”

Maura's laughter was as light as the smile she turned toward Frost. “You needn't go that far, Barry. I'm happy to do it. I'm waiting for a few other test results on our body, so it's a good time for me to take a break.” She turned to Jane with a smirk. “I'm no detective, Jane, but I know by now that when your stomach growls, a salad won't suffice. I was thinking vegetable tempura and fried rice?”

Jane felt practically light-headed, but she wasn't positive it was just a reaction to the food image Maura just conjured. “Oh, yeah, Maura, that would hit the spot.” _You're not getting to marry her, Frost. That pleasure's mine. Shit. Did I just think that?_ “Um, I'm gonna take this back to the Nguyens and find a uniform who's free to take them home,” she mumbled and started walking backwards, quite aware of the flush that had spread up her neck and into her cheeks.

Maura watched her with a small smile, then nodded. Frost looked back and forth between the two of them, one eyebrow raised just enough to let Jane know she'd somehow given a 'tell' to both of them. _Oh, god, when did I get so easy to read?_

Without another word, they each turned in different directions and proceeded toward their chosen tasks.


	3. Clostridium What-ee-eye?

“Do you have opera glasses, Jane, or would you prefer to borrow mine?” Maura could be insufferable when she knew she'd put one over on Jane. She hadn't said a word about the bet since the swab incident in the garage and had waited until Jane was as mellow as the detective could get at her desk, full of deliciously warm tempura and fried rice from their favorite take-out place.

Maura cleaned her hands with a lemon-scented wipe and dried them with a paper napkin. Then she stood and handed Jane the fresh lab results on the other swabs Ann had taken from the infamous red goo on the wall. This way, Jane realized, Maura got to lay it on thick with Frost and Korsak as audience.

 _She never used to smirk_ , Jane thought. _Where did she pick that up? “_ What? Mineral oil?” Jane read aloud.

“That's the main ingredient. In fact, you'll see that they even identified the product: It's used on battery connections to prevent corrosion, mostly. But it can be used as a lubricant, as well.”

“Oh, yeah,” Frost chimed in. “They put a couple globs of that stuff on when they replaced my car battery last month.” His expression shadowed a bit under Jane's glare. “It could be taken for blood, I guess,” he offered.

Jane narrowed her eyes as she looked over at Maura's still-smirking face. “You knew it wasn't blood even before we bet, didn't you, Dr. Isles.” It wasn't a question.

“I couldn't have been positive until we tested, Detective, but I was fairly sure it wasn't blood.”

“That's just low, Maura.”

Maura's smirk disappeared, replaced with a much softer expression. “Jane, if you feel I've taken advantage, we can cancel the bet so there are no hard feelings.”

“Oh, no way, Doc,” Korsak called over from his desk. “Rizzoli, you're not gonna welch, are you? That just ain't right! Doc won that one fair and square.”

“How you figure, old man? She knew it wasn't blood!”

“So?” Frost chimed in again. “Doc gave you all kinds of chances to back out, Jane. I was there. I heard her.”

“No, Barry, Vince, really. I don't want this to cause a problem. It was just Jane and I bantering,” Maura was looking a tad panicky, now.

 _Crap_ , Jane thought. _I'm such an ass._ “No, Maura. They're both right.” She reached for Maura's hand below the level of her desk, where the other two detectives couldn't see the connection. Maura immediately looked down into Jane's eyes and another connection was made between the two. “Can we just share your opera glasses?”

Jane felt her heart get bigger as Maura's smile spread over her. _Man, how does she do that?_

“Really? You'll go?”

“Yeah, of course, Maur. It'll be fun.” _Good thing one of us can lie without getting hives_.

“Oh, and the other part of the bet, Doc. What's Jane going to wear?” Frost gleefully threw in, ignoring Jane's reaction.

“Um, well, maybe we should just not worry about that part,” Maura mumbled, as she observed Jane's deadly glare at her partner.

“Gee, I don't know, Doc. That'd still be welching...” Korsak's growl didn't match the twinkle in his eye, the same twinkle being reflected back from Frost's.

Jane tried to spread her most effective glare between the two, but it obviously wasn't working.

“Did you know that the famous pathologist, William Henry Welch, was the first dean of the Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine and was also the founder of the Johns Hopkins School of Hygiene and Public Health, the first school of public health in the country? He's credited with discovering the organism that causes gas gangrene, which was named Clostridium welchii in his honor. Well, of course, it's now known as Clostridium perfringens...” Maura's nervous babble tapered off as three pairs of eyes had turned toward her, three varying expressions from mirth to consternation evidenced among them.

Jane was the first to break the spell. “Okay, guys. Don't worry about it. Maura and I will work it all out later, right, Maur?” Since Jane was still holding Maura's hand, she squeezed a little to let her know everything was all right. The look Maura gave Jane, that blend of joy, amazement and gratitude which never failed to torque Jane's heart, also let Jane know her friend would be okay.

“Of course, Jane.” Maura slowly released Jane's hand and retrieved the test results form from Jane's desk. “Does that mean we can move on to discussing what the substance was doing on the wall of the crime scene?”

“It's a garage, Maura. You said this goo is used on car batteries mainly. I kinda doubt we have a mystery here...”

“Jane, that garage was obsessively clean. Believe me, I recognize that level of organization and cleanliness. Although the 'goo' wouldn't dry out the way blood would—which would lead one to presume it could have been there long before the murder—I wonder if whoever maintained that garage would have let something like that remain for very long.”

“So, Doc,” Frost was twirling a pen between his fingers excitedly as he spoke. “You think that glob of goo might have happened when the murder occurred?”

“I think it's possible, Barry.”

“I guess we need to talk to that housekeeper again, Frost. Find out who maintains that garage and when it was last cleaned.”

“I'm on it,” Frost nodded as he reached for the phone.

“We also need to go back to the garage and see if there's any of that stuff on the shelves or in the cabinets...” Jane was grabbing the case file as her mind was seeing the garage again. _Wait. Where'd she go?_ “Maura!” she called to the ME who had quietly left for the elevator.

“Yes, Jane?”

“Thanks,” Jane huffed, as she caught up with her. “You know,” the detective awkwardly waved her arms to indicate a wide area, “for everything.”

Maura's dimpled smile expanded Jane's heart again. “You're welcome, Jane.”

\---

While they were waiting for the warrant to process, Frost completed his search through Beckdahl's financials and Jane worked on digging out leads to any enemies he might have. That took her through court records, where a case popped up with Beckdahl as a respondent.

“Well, here's a possibility!” Jane grinned at her computer screen. “Seems Mr. Beckdahl has stirred the wrath of environmentalists in the great State of Massachusetts.”

“That's good, 'cause his financials are nothin' but boring!” Frost complained. “I hope he chopped down the last known endangered species of beloved oak with humongous loppers and they vowed vengeance.”

Jane looked up at her partner and grimaced, “Okay, Frost, that wouldn't be too easy, would it? No, but he was planning to destroy a stretch of wetlands to put in a shopping mall.”

“Well, that qualifies for Grinchhood, I'd say. Still, tree huggers aren't usually homicidal. Oooh, unless some of them are eco-terrorists!”

Jane sighed. “Yeah, you just sucked the juice out of that golden egg, partner. Eco-terrorists with giant loppers beheading the greedy developer. Somehow, I don't see that one hatching anything real.”

“Well, so far we got nothin' so, why not go talk to the environmentalists?”

\---

The office of the environmental group was downtown and it wasn't hard to find its top person. She was the only one in the office, which was about the size of Jane's cramped living room.

“Yes, we heard about Mr. Beckdahl's demise and were quite pleased,” Ms. Emerton's smile tended more towards sardonic than sweet. “Unfortunately, his nephew will probably inherit the land and we'll still have a battle on our hands to keep him from destroying that wetlands area.”

“His nephew?” Frost looked at Jane, who looked back at him.

“Yes, his nephew, Darren Uhrling. He does the physical destruction while his uncle did the planning, financing, and—if you ask me—the buying off of zoning officials.”

“I saw that name in the financials, Jane. I didn't think of a family connection. Uhrling popped up pretty regularly.”

“He would,” Ms. Emerton agreed. “They were thick as thieves, those two. Both were equally despicable.”

“You mean in their willingness to tear up wetlands?” Jane encouraged her to provide some detail.

“I mean that they were both sadistic and boorish. They obviously reveled in playing Snidely Whiplash every chance they got.”

Frost looked blank, but Jane grinned. “The villain from Dudley Do-right—the Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoons?”

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but that's how over the top the two are, well, were. It's like they were competing for the title of supervillain. Early on we tried to meet with them several times to come to some kind of compromise. They literally taunted us, baited the more hotheaded of our group...” her voice trailed off as she realized what she was saying and how the detectives might take it.

“You were saying, Ms. Emerton,” Frost nonchalantly encouraged her. “They baited the more hotheaded in your group?”

Her mouth became a straight line as she shook her head at him. “No, there's no way it was one of us, Detective. We are a non-violent group. We may yell loud, but we never strike out. We believe in passive resistance as a last resort.”

“We'll need a list of your members, Ms. Emerton,” Jane said quietly.

“You'll need a warrant before that, Detective Rizzoli,” she answered, rose, and showed them the door.

As they climbed into the cruiser, Frost mumbled, “She'll have a lawyer standing in the doorway the next time we come to call.”

“Yep. Everybody wants a warrant.”

\---

“Mr Beckdahl cleaned this garage himself, detectives. He wouldn't let anyone else mess with anything in there,” Mrs. Zalinsky repeated the information she'd provided to Frost earlier, then unlocked the garage door for them. “He was obsessive about keeping it spotless and everything had to be in its right place.”

 _On the money, Dr. Isles,_ Jane thought and matched the little smile Frost turned toward her. They hunted about as thoroughly as possible, but found no containers of the product that had hit the wall. The walls, except for the one patch that had been stained by the goo, were pristine. The work surfaces and shelves were the same.

“Maura was right, Frost. He'd never have let that stuff stay on the wall. Not while he was alive,” Jane said as they got back in the cruiser and drove off.

\---

After their fruitless search through the Nguyen's property, with Anh stomping along behind them everywhere they went (Mr. Nguyen was out on a job), the detectives arrived at Darren Uhrling's office. It was in a warehouse district in Revere and to Jane and Frost's heightened interest, included a warehouse-sized steel building with several large land-moving vehicles outside and a truck inside, with room for at least two more. As they followed Uhrling through to his office in the back, Frost surreptitiously poked Jane in the ribs and angled his head at some steel shelving against the wall. Several cans of the mystery product sat on one of the shelves.

Uhrling may have seemed like a cartoon villain to Ms. Emerton, but Jane decided he was basically just a run-of-the-mill asshole. He leered at Jane (or, more particularly, her breasts) and sneered at Frost. He even averred that it was nice that women and minorities could get “government jobs” since the private sector was so competitive. Neither detective rose for the bait. Uhrling seemed mildly disappointed when they ignored the insult.

On the way to the cruiser, Frost growled, “Oh, I do so hope he did it.”

“Yeah. Let's shake Beckdahl's lawyer a little harder and find out who inherits Beckdahl's estate. The guy seems to be stalling us. Oh, and we need...”

“Yeah, a warrant to search this property, I know.”


	4. First Kiss

“Jane,” Frost groaned into his hands, “I can feel this case file getting colder but, if I don't go home and get some sleep, I won't be good for anything.”

“Yeah, you know what,” Jane stood stiffly from her desk chair and stretched, “I'm outa here, too. We'll have the warrant for Uhrling's place tomorrow and we can see what we have after that, right?”

Jane's phone played the theme from Crossing Jordan and she glared over at Frost who just shrugged and grinned. “Seriously? You can't stop yourself from messin' with my ringtones?”

Frost headed for the elevators, waving goodbye over his shoulder and chuckling.

“Hi, Maur, you're not still here are you?”

“Well, Jane, I am here but I'm not sure my here is the here to which you are referring. Is it?”

_Her voice is much too jolly for someone still slaving away down in Cadaver Catacombs._ “You're home, right?”

“Yes, Jane, and I'm going to make a Rizzoli-like assumption that you're standing next to your desk. Were you about to leave for home?”

_Okay, that's just spooky._ “I'm not gonna ask how you do that, Maura. I'm afraid of the answer.”

Now Maura's voice was fairly grinning: “I'm also going to assume you didn't eat supper yet. You have beer already here in the refrigerator and I could have a half veggie, half mushroom pizza delivered by the time you arrive. Your mother picked up Jo Friday, as you requested, and left her with me when she went to see a movie with Carla Talucci, so you don't have to worry about her. What do you think?”

Suddenly, Jane wasn't exhausted anymore. In fact, she was feeling really good, despite the fact she knew the pizza was going to be accompanied by a fresh green salad Maura would insist she eat, as well. “I think my day just got a whole lot better, Maur. Be there in 45.” Jane knew that someday she would have to look closely at all the ways Maura could make the air seem brighter and what it meant that Maura could do that to her, but tonight she just wanted to enjoy this feeling.

\---

Maura wiped her lips with her napkin, a definite twinkle in the hazel eyes beaming at Jane. Jane ripped her gaze away from those full, red lips. She'd had this jolt before when watching Maura delicately pull a napkin across her mouth: as though she were undressing her mouth and letting Jane see her naked lips. “So, _do_ I get to pick what you wear to the opera when we go?”

Jane grinned down at her pizza. She'd known it was coming, just not exactly _when_ during the meal Maura would pull the ace out of her sleeve. Tempura and fried rice for lunch and pizza and beer for supper—even with the expected salad, Maura was obviously making sure the detective was fat, fed, and easy to roll before making her move.

“Those were the stakes, Dr. Isles. As Korsak said, I can't honorably back out now.” Jane narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice, “What's it going to be then, the LBD?”

“I do really like you in that, um, I mean, you really look nice in that 'little black dress,'” Maura stumbled, and Jane put a mental sticky on the ME's wording to go back and examine it later. “But, I was thinking maybe we could go shopping...”

_Oh, god, how could I have missed all those cues? She's been setting me up for a shopping trip!_ “Well, Dr. Isles, I must say that was masterfully done,” Jane growled and was a little surprised to realize she was actually more tickled at Maura's deviousness than irked at the prospect of having to go shopping.

“Oh, come on, Jane. It could be fun! We could shop this weekend, if your case is resolved.”

“Yeah, I'm starting to think I'll need to pull a miracle out of my, uh, ear to get this case to work out anytime soon,” Jane groused and swigged the last dregs of her beer. “You want another glass of wine, Maura?”

Maura shook her head and Jane took the empty glass by Maura's plate. She rinsed out both her beer bottle and the glass, depositing one in the recycling and the other in the dishwasher. “It's not like we don't have suspects, it's just that this case is just too weird, you know?”

“I agree. Jane, that weapon had to be elevated somehow. On a frame, or hanging from the ceiling—and it had to have been steady, not like loosely from a winch. I've been searching through records of decapitations and haven't found anything comparable.”

“You've been doing that?” Jane sat back down across from Maura and just grinned.

Maura suddenly looked alarmed. “Oh, Jane, I hope I wasn't stepping over a line when I did that. I was just trying to find a possible example of the kind of weapon that could make the cut that severed our victim's head from his body...”

Jane covered Maura's hands on the table with both of her own. “Maura, relax. It's great that you did that, don't feel bad.” At the little twitch of Maura's eyebrow, Jane grinned again and self-corrected before Maura had a chance: “...badly? And I'm not some territorial fossil who's gonna tell you to stick to autopsies while Frost and I do the 'gumshoe thing.' You already give us so much to work with that's beyond what we normally expect from an ME's shop, I don't think there's a line for you to step over.”

“Really?” Maura gazed back into Jane's eyes, almost wistfully. Jane marveled for the umpteenth time how such a brilliant, talented, capable, sophisticated woman could sometimes reveal this childlike thrill over...what? Acceptance? Being included? Being appreciated?

“Really. You, Dr. Maura Isles, are part of our team, right? We all throw in whatever we can bring to the game. That's why we keep winning, Babe.” _I called Maura babe? Where did that come from? Must've been the gumshoe reference. But, damn, look at that smile—two dimples beats a full house!_

Jane's mouth kept moving, and words came out that she recognized to be true but that she'd never meant to say aloud. “I don't know what I'd do without you. You know that, right? I don't mean just at work. I mean in my life. You make everything...” Jane's mouth stalled while words cascaded through her head: _happier, lighter, goofier, funnier, sexier_...she inhaled sharply on that last one. _Oh, shit. It's true._

Maura seemed about to say something, then glanced away from her. “What, Maur?”

The ME rose from the table and began to collect the dishes, all the while keeping her face averted. _Is she...shit, did I make her cry? Is that why she's taking forever to rinse off those plates?_

Jane got up and placed her hand softly on Maura's back. “Maura? Did what I said upset you?”

Maura froze with one hand on the counter and one on the dishwasher door, her head bowed. She shook her head and turned back to face Jane, revealing wet cheeks and overflowing eyes. She shrugged sheepishly, “Oh, Jane. I'm sorry. You must think I'm pathetically silly. It's just that sometimes you express the sweetest sentiments!” She sniffed and tried to dry her cheeks with the backs of her hands.

Jane felt something in her chest melt. It might have been whatever would have stopped her from reaching her hand into Maura's blond curls and tenderly pulling her friend into her arms. “Comin' from me, I guess what I just said kinda blind-sided you, huh?”

When Maura slid easily into her arms and warmly pressed her body into Jane's, wrapping her arms around Jane's waist, her damp face into Jane's neck, the detective's brain split in two. One part reveled at how perfectly they fit together and how wondrous Maura's body felt in Jane's arms; the other part of Jane's brain had slammed itself backwards against the inside of Jane's skull while it screamed, _'WTF_!'

Between the two brains, Jane found she no longer had speech function. She just stood holding Maura and Maura seemed content to stay in her arms. Jane inhaled deeply and found the soft scent of Maura's shampoo preferable to earth's normal atmosphere. _Okay, I'm just gonna open my eyes here and read the neon sign that's been flashin' against my eyeballs for awhile now. Yes, I'm crazy about Maura. I'm even crazy enough to suspect she's feeling something for me. I mean, 'I really like you in that' was beyond a Freudian slip, right? Maura really likes me in a_ _ **little black dress**_ _..._

Jane's reverie was disturbed by Maura's pulling out of their embrace to reach for a tissue from a box on the counter. “We need to talk, Jane.”

“Do we, Dr. Isles?”

“Yes, Detective, we do.”

“If you promise I'm gonna like what we say, then I'm all for it.”

Maura's expression darkened just a tad, “Well, I think you're ready for it, but I really don't want to make an assumption about something like this. Still, I don't think I can sustain the extreme emotional fluctuations I've been experiencing for so long without incurring detrimental psychological results.”

“It's drivin' you nuts too, huh, Maur?”

“Yes, Jane. It's driving me quite nuts.”

By unspoken mutual consent, they moved to the sofa. Jane sat first and wrapped one arm around Maura's shoulders as she nestled into Jane's side. _This is how we sit here when it's late and we're alone together. We've been doing this for how long? And it's taken me this long to admit best friends don't normally cuddle like this?_

“I have feelings for you, Jane,” Maura whispered after having taken a deep breath.

“God, Maura, that's a relief. I'd have felt pretty silly telling you how I felt if you didn't,” Jane murmured into the top of Maura's head.

“Can we be serious, Jane?”

Jane pulled back a bit, gently placed a finger under Maura's chin and made sure they were gazing into each other's eyes. “I am serious, Maura. Mildly terrified and a little panicky, but very, very serious.” _Okay, here goes._ “Dr. Maura Isles, I'm crazy about you. I wake up thinking about you and go to sleep thinking about you, and that includes nights I'm laying next to you in bed, which—in case you hadn't thought about it—you and I have done on a fairly regular basis." 

“And which, I have to tell you, has contributed no little part to my emotional fluctuations.”

“Yeah, well, ditto that, Doc.”

Maura sat up and turned sideways to face Jane full on. “So, Jane, what do we do about it?”

“You were the one who called this meeting, Dr. Isles,” Jane couldn't resist that evil little beastie whispering in her ear, even though Maura had called for seriousness. “What would you _like_ to do about it?” She almost felt guilty as a shade of panic floated across Maura's expression.

But Maura sat up, if possible, even straighter, inhaled deeply, and blurted, “I wanted to kiss you a second ago, but now I'm not sure I do!”

_Whoops, that wasn't panic I saw on her face._ “I'm sorry, that was stupid. I should be saying romantic things to you and I come out all smartass instead because I'm nervous.” Jane reached over and took Maura's hand. When she didn't pull away, Jane found the courage to put her arm back around Maura's shoulders and pull her back in again. “I want to kiss you, too,” Jane whispered, her lips very close to Maura's.

Maura tilted her head slightly and closed the scant distance left between them. Jane realized Maura's lips were softly grazing hers at the same time she realized she'd forgotten to breathe. Taking a deep breath, Jane parted her lips and briefly captured first Maura's upper lip, pulled back, then did the same to Maura's lower lip. Maura smiled widely and, encouraged, Jane pulled her in fully for a much more serious attempt. They continued for some time like this, alternately playing with lips and tongues, lightly then more deeply, then moving more of their bodies together as each kiss became longer and deeper than the previous.

_I'm making out with the most beautiful, the most amazing, woman I've ever known,_ Jane thought with a part of her brain that she wished would just shut up and let her focus on what was actually happening to the rest of her body. Maura was breathing just as deeply as Jane and the sounds escaping her lips, when Jane wasn't blocking their expression, indicated she was possibly enjoying this as much as Jane was.

Finally, as their respiration rates reached the panting stage, Maura pulled back and waited for Jane to pay attention.

“You're going to say we should stop, aren't you, Maur.”

“Do you want to stop, Jane?”

Jane sighed. “No, Maura, I don't _want_ to stop but if I don't, we won't be just having our first kiss tonight, will we?”

Maura softly leaned her forehead against Jane's. “I want it to be special.”

“If it's with you, Maura, for me it will be special whether it happens tonight or a month from now,” Jane whispered.

Foreheads still together, Maura smiled. “I love you.”

Jane tilted her head back so she could gaze directly into those hazel eyes with wide, dark pupils. She smiled, thinking Maura was probably running an internal googlebabble about Jane's dilated pupils right now. “I love you too, Maura.”

They kissed again, this time more softly but to Jane it was just as sweet. _Passion can be quiet, too. I didn't know that._ “Should I pack up my pup and head home now?”

“Oh, Jane, can't you stay?”

“You want me to?”

“Yes.”

“I'd like to. It would be nice to wake up holding you in the morning.”

“Why don't you take care of Jo while I finish clearing the kitchen?”

Jane rose and called for Jo to accompany her to the backyard, then stood at the door and waited until Jo was done and started goofing off. Rather than call Jo's name, Jane stepped out onto the deck and Jo raced over to her favorite human. Jane picked the little fur ball up. “I'm sorry you didn't get more time tonight, Jo. I'll try to give you more time in the morning, okay?” Jane apologized and scruffed up the dog's head as she entered the kitchen. She put Jo down and the dog contentedly ran to her basket and commenced chewing on her toy. 

Maura kissed Jane lightly, took her hand and led her to the bedroom.

 


	5. Catching Uncle Bobblehead's Killer

As Jane was speaking to Frost, one part of her brain was registering the rhythmic clicking of heels approaching from behind. That part of her brain whispered, _Maura_ , to her conscious brain even as Jane completed a sentence about leads on this case being scarcer than safe-sex PSAs on the porn channel.

“I may be able to help with that,” Maura announced, and Jane could see the smile even before she turned to look into Maura's face. Maura's smile, wide and dimpled, lit up the air around her head. Jane knew her own face was a big, broad, shit-eatin' grin, but she didn't care. 'Language, Jane.' wafted through the part of her brain that knew the sound of Maura's footsteps.

That same part of her brain wanted to make Jane think about porn and Maura's ability to help with that. The rest of Jane's brain made her say, “You got something for us, Maura?”

“I believe I do,” the ME looked like a kid in a candy factory or more accurately, Jane realized, like Maura in a shockingly expensive shoe store. “I did a patent search!” Her head swiveled between Jane and Frost as though she were watching a tennis match.

Jane looked at Maura, then turned toward Frost with raised eyebrows. Frost looked back at Jane just as blankly. “Yeah, Maur, I think you're gonna have to give us a little more here.”

“Why don't I just show you?” Maura smirked and handed Jane a folder. “Did you know there were over half a million patent applications filed with the U. S. Patent and Trademark Office in 2010 and the number increases every year?”

“I did not know that, Dr. Isles,” Jane responded, hoping she didn't pull a muscle restraining herself from reacting inappropriately while Maura emitted high energy waves right in front of her. Jane was still grinning at Maura's excitement as she opened the folder and looked at the engineering drawing on a very official-looking document inside.

“Holy crap,” she muttered.

\---

Rizzoli and Frost showed up with a warrant at Darren Uhrling's property, accompanied by a couple of uniforms and the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts toting a field lab kit. It didn't take long to locate the piece of equipment described in the patent application, tucked away in a corner under a tarp. It was quite large, shiny and new, and had a couple of killer blades. Maura swabbed at the bright red substance used to lubricate the junction of the two blades.

“What do you think, Doc?” Frost asked in a lowered voice while Jane dealt with an agitated Uhrling on the other side of the large garage.

“I think this apparatus has been carefully dismantled, cleaned and lubricated, Detective. It's unlikely we'll find any blood mixed with the goo or anywhere else on it.” The ME stood back and took in the whole piece of equipment. “How did he get this into the victim's garage, Barry, much less get him into position to be beheaded?”

Jane walked up behind Maura just as she asked the question. “Uhrling's lawyering up already. I don't think we'll be able to get any help from him to answer your question, Maura. But the patent said this thing was designed to be operated from the back of a pickup with a special articulated arm, right?”

“So--what? He just backed it up into Beckdahl's garage and snipped his head off?” Frost looked like the thought wasn't helping keep his breakfast down.

Jane suddenly grinned, nodded, and walked halfway back across the garage toward where Uhrling was fuming next to the two uniforms. “So, Mr. Uhrling,” her voice rang out in the open space. “Did you invent that thing to cut trees first and decide to use it on your uncle later or the other way around?”

Uhrling seemed to freeze all his facial muscles at once. Jane couldn't help but grin even wider. “Your uncle needed a tow? He noticed you didn't have your everyday towing features on the back of your pickup, right?”

Still stone-faced, Uhrling continued to stare back at the detective who slowly rotated on the spot. She made eye contact with Frost while her back was to the suspect and Frost nodded almost imperceptibly. His attention then switched to Uhrling as Jane continued to turn, eyeing the three vehicles in the garage. She sauntered slowly over to the farthest, walked around the back of it and returned to the front.

Maura watched the performance, having only glanced once at Frost, whose attention was completely on Uhrling.

Jane then moved to the next vehicle, circled it as slowly as she had the first, stopping briefly while she scanned the back of it. The third vehicle, the only one that had been present in the warehouse on their last visit, received the same treatment. Finally, Jane walked back over toward Uhrling and stood with her hands on her hips which caused her blazer to fall back, revealing her holstered gun on one side and badge on the other. She looked over at Frost and smiled when he glanced quickly at the third vehicle. “Maura, would you do the honors to that truck?” Jane asked quietly, pointing at the vehicle Frost had indicated. Frost continued to stare at Uhrling.

“Certainly, Detective,” Maura responded as she walked slowly around the truck in the same way Jane had done, peering over the surface from top to bottom on each side. When she reached the rear of the vehicle, she opened her kit and extracted a flashlight. “Can we turn out the lights, please?” Maura called out politely. _She's so great,_ Jane thought gleefully. _You'd think she was just getting ready to give us a slide show of the analysis of hair follicles for toxi-blah blah whatever._

The beam of the light was much brighter than that of a normal flashlight; it created a glow on the edges of the truck from where Jane was standing. After several minutes, Maura called, “Detective Rizzoli, can you assist me?”

Jane held the light while Maura took a swab sample, sprayed it, and smiled when the swab turned pink. “Shall we call in the rest of the gang, Maura?” Jane murmured in the blonde's ear.

“Yes, let's do that.”

\--- 

Jane and Frost grabbed drinks for all four of them and made their way to the booth where Maura and Korsak were waiting. Jane slid in next to Maura. Frost sat and smirked at Korsak, tilting his head sideways just a smidgeon toward the two women who were sitting close enough that a third person could have fit in the booth with them. Korsak lifted both his bushy eyebrows and smirked back at Frost with a slight nod. They normally would not have had this silent conversation right in front of their sometimes cantankerous colleague, but the great Jane Rizzoli was, at present, safely oblivious.

Korsak chuckled, cleared his throat, and raised his brew. “Here's to the best damned team that ever worked a homicide!”

Jane and Maura were only a beat off, having to pull their gazes apart in order to belatedly raise their glasses and meet Frost's and Korsak's over the table. “Hear, hear!” Maura agreed and beamed her smile from Jane to Frost.

“Hey, Doc,” Korsak leaned toward Maura after taking his obligatory swig. “I'm including you in that. I'm sure both these guys are well aware you broke the case for them.”

Jane stretched her arm across the back of the booth and squeezed Maura shoulders. “Oh, believe it, we are!”

Maura's face was so flushed, Jane worried she was going to have a stroke.

“And when you found more blood on that articulated arm Uhrling had stashed underneath that pile of parts, I knew he was going to confess.” Frost added. “I swear, the man deflated right in the middle of the warehouse.”

“He told me in interrogation that he was demonstrating the apparatus for his uncle when the goo flew off the fulcrum of the blades. He wanted to be sure they worked smoothly, so he really globbed the stuff on the bolt, but forgot to wipe the excess off when he took it over to his uncle's place.”

“So, what was the deal?” Korsak frowned, “was Beckdahl gonna invest in it?”

Jane shook her head. “Beckdahl laughed at him. Said it was the stupidest thing he'd ever seen and nobody in his right mind would sink money into it. Then, and I think this might have been what tripped Uhrling's switch, Beckdahl told him to make himself useful and tow the car to the mechanic's garage to save his uncle the towing charge.”

“Uhrling's financials show he's in some deep debt,” Frost added. “He was counting on his invention to pull him out and he needed his uncle to help him start a company to manufacture and market it.”

“So, the victim was attaching the tow rope when Uhrling...”

“Yeah,” Frost grinned, “continued the demonstration for his uncle.”

“Nice find on that bloody rope, Frost,” Jane winked at him.

“Yeah, that was sweet, huh?” Frost leaned back and smoothed his tie. “Uhrling must have been frantic by the time he buried the rope next to the trash cans in the back. He should have messed up the dirt so it wasn't so obvious he'd moved one of the cans to cover where he'd buried the rope.”

Maura looked especially impressed. “You noticed that a can was moved, leaving an impression of the bottom of the trash can in the dirt, so you looked under all of them until you found dirt that wasn't packed down like the others?”

“Yeah, Doc, am I slick or what?” Frost was eating it up that Maura agreed it was a brilliant piece of deduction. “But you know what really took the wind out of his sails long before I found that rope, Doc?” Maura shook her head and Frost smiled at Jane.

Jane leaned closer to the ME. “It was when you found blood. He'd worked so hard to clean everything, especially the blades and the apparatus, including that articulated arm with all the joints. And in just a few minutes, you go back there and find blood.”

Maura was blushing again. “The technology available these days is remarkable. We have wonderful tools, amazing computer software, so much more knowledge...”

Jane hushed her with a light, quick touch of their lips and Maura's eyes were huge when Jane drew away. The ME glanced across the table to find Frost and Korsak chuckling happily.

“Jane, I thought we were going to wait until we'd talked to your mother...”

“Oh, yeah. Forgot about that.” She glanced quickly around the busy bar and decided they'd been unobserved. “You guys have to keep it a secret for awhile, okay?”

“We got your back, both of ya,” Korsak promised, and Frost nodded. “You don't need to worry about how Angela will take it, though.”

“We don't?”

“Nah. She told me months ago she wished you two would wake up and realize you belonged together.”

“Then why did she try to set me up with that schmuck son of Carla Talucci's friend?”

Korsak laughed loudly. “Oh, that was bad of her! She was trying to make you so fed up you'd look at Maura and see how much better your life could be.”

Jane stared at Korsak. Not a lot shocked the detective, but to think her mother would pull something that disgusting... _Well, shit. Who's to say it didn't work?_ “That woman needs to wear some kind of hazardous materials warning.”


	6. Wrapped Up and with a Bow on It

“Thank you, Jane,” Maura whispered into Jane's neck.

“For what, Maura?” Jane thought she knew, but she was learning that it was better to be sure she understood what the ME was referring to before responding. She could have just said, _You're welcome,_ but where would be the fun in that?

“For everything: going shopping, letting me buy you the dress, going to the opera,” Maura smirked, “staying awake...”

“Okay, I'll have you know I enjoyed that one. Well, except that she died. Why does somebody always have to die in opera?”

“Pathos, drama, passion. It all builds with the music to a crescendo. Rather like what you do to me,” Maura hummed into Jane's ear and Jane realized her body was working up toward one of those crescendos all by itself. _Well, not by itself. It's definitely being helped by the way Maura's body is pressing against mine._

The town car Maura had hired for the evening pulled up to the ME's house and the two women eased apart long enough for the driver to open the door for them, help them out, and wish them a good evening. Jane managed to keep her hands politely at her sides as they walked to the house and the car pulled away. As Maura unlocked the door and walked through, the detective realized she didn't know if she'd be invited in.

“Jane? You are..I mean...you're staying, aren't you?”

 _Oh, wow. It feels good to breathe._ “I'd really like to, Maur,” she whispered, and stepped over the threshhold.

Maura smiled slowly, one hand caressing the back of Jane's neck as she pulled the dark-haired woman farther into the foyer, and closed the door. Jane felt like she was putting an exclamation point on a statement as she reached over and flipped the security bolt home.

“Why did you hesitate, just then?”

“Well, this amazing ME at work, a genius actually, is always telling me not to make assumptions, you know?”

Maura stared at her and slowly shook her head. “So _this_ is the assumption you decide not to make?” The blonde's hands began to move over Jane's body, sliding over the sides of Jane's breasts and following the curves to her hips, all the while pressing the front of her body against Jane's. Their mouths softly grazed each others' and Maura slipped her tongue quickly between Jane's lips. The kiss intensified until both women reared back to breathe.

“I want you, Maura. I want you so much,” Jane growled into Maura's blond curls and pulled the smaller, taut body even closer.

“And I want you, Jane,” Maura murmured into Jane's ear, then pulled back to look directly into the taller woman's eyes. “Tonight. I want you tonight, Jane.”

“Will it be special enough for you, Maur?” Jane felt a tremor of panic. Why didn't she think this through more? Plan more? _Shit, I should have done more to make this special for her!_

Maura held Jane's face in both hands and leaned in for a deep, long kiss. “Absolutely.” A mischievous light twinkled through the blonde's eyes and she grinned, “I picked out that dress you're wearing—and wearing so perfectly, I will add—based solely on how special it will be to help you out of it.”

That was all Jane needed to hear. Her hands cupped the ME's exquisitely round, taut ass and returned the kiss, pressing their centers together. Jane realized they were both moaning between breaths and repeated kisses as they took small steps toward the stairs. Maura stopped their progress at the foot of the stairs.

“We're an accident waiting to happen, Jane. Take off your shoes.”

Jane grinned at the diminutive blonde in her arms. “You're just trying to level the playing field, Doctor Isles. I will if you will.”

“Probably a good idea,” Maura frowned. “If I were to step on your bare feet in these heels, we'd end the evening in the ER.” She kicked off her five-inch Jimmy Choos without looking to see where they landed. Jane stepped out of her shorter heels and carefully picked them up. Maura huffed, grabbed Jane's shoes and dropped them as carelessly as she had her own.

“You'll be needing your hands free, Jane,” the blonde growled and pulled Jane in for another searing kiss. When they came up for air, Jane was grinning.

“You're very eager tonight, Maur.”

“Oh, Jane, you've no idea...” Maura began, then ended with a squeak as Jane picked her up and headed up the stairs.

“But I'm about to get better than an idea, Babe,” Jane laughed.

Jane stopped at the open door to Maura's large bedroom and stared at Maura's bed. She'd seen it many times before, indeed had slept next to Maura, even cuddled with Maura in that bed. Tonight was going to be entirely different, though. _Why does Maura's bed look so huge?_

Maura tickled Jane's ear with her whispered words, “You just turn sideways, Detective. That way you can carry me in without bruising my legs.”

Jane smiled and looked into Maura's eyes, crinkled in humor. _She knows how to make it okay for me. She knows me that well._ “God, I love you so much, Maura.”

The hazel eyes moistened and Maura ducked her head into Jane's neck. “I love you too, Jane. It scares me how much sometimes.”

“Yeah. It's a little overwhelming, isn't it?” Jane murmured, and proceeded toward the bed. She gently laid Maura on top of the comforter.

“Hmmm. Not quite the correct position for my fantasy...” Maura peered back at Jane, who froze as she was beginning to crawl into the bed with Maura. Maura giggled and kissed the side of Jane's head as she gently pushed her back to a standing position. “No, Detective, I have three scenarios for removing that dress and in all of them, you're standing up.”

Jane's relief was countered by what the sultry sound of Maura's voice was doing to her. _Crap, if I get any wetter, my underwear will slide itself off!_ And not just Maura's voice. The blonde had stood as well and was moving around Jane, hands caressing every curve of Jane's body available from each angle. When Maura's hand began to roam up the inside of Jane's thigh, causing her dress to slide higher than the already short distance from her crotch, Jane let out a moan and leaned back into the smaller woman standing behind her.

“Oh, Jane, you're so wet!”

 _Yep, knew she was gonna go for that._ “Jesus, Maura, if you're gonna get this dress off, I think you'd better do that soon.”

Maura chuckled and licked and nipped at Jane's bare shoulder, but didn't move her hand away from the sodden fabric between Jane's thighs. Jane moaned again and started to turn around. She needed to give her own hands more to do than move up and down along Maura's hips.

Maura pulled Jane against her from the back and whispered in her ear, “Don't be so impatient, Jane. I'm going to take your dress off. I just need to enjoy feeling you through it first.” As an example to the moaning detective, Maura cupped Jane's breast and began to knead through the fabric of dress and bra. Still, her other hand, the one causing far more of Jane's arousal, remained between her legs and clutched her even tighter than before.

 _Two can enjoy that game_ , Jane thought. Moving her hands stealthily down Maura's hips as far as she could reach, she gripped the dress material and pulled upward. Maura gasped as she realized what Jane was doing but, rather than hold Jane tighter to prevent the material from sliding upward, Maura's surprise caused her to pull back just enough for Jane to be quite successful. Jane reached past the dress with her left hand and captured the hot spot between Maura's legs. Hot and soaked. Maura moaned and bit Jane's shoulder.

“Point Rizzoli,” Maura growled. “Dress off now.” She immediately pulled the zipper of Jane's dress down with, unfortunately, the hand that had been between Jane's legs and swept the straps from Jane's shoulders with her other hand.

Jane turned as she stepped out of the crumpled material on the floor and turned Maura around to unzip her dress, not without some regret. “I didn't get to play with you while you were clothed,” she complained.

Maura leaned back into Jane's arms as her dress dropped to the floor. “I guess we'll have to do this often, until we get to play through all of our respective fantasies.”

Jane tried to listen, but her brain had locked on the view of Maura's beautiful ass in a thong. She tried to make her hands go there, but nothing was moving.

“Jane?”

“Umm, yeah, Maur?”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Umm, no. Just can't decide whether to kneel down and kiss your gorgeous butt, grab it and squeeze, or pull that thong down, push you over onto the bed and eat you out. Wish I had a strap-on. That would be something else, you know?”

Maura pushed back against Jane, grinding herself against her partner and eliciting a deep moan. “Oh, Jane, perhaps you now understand my previous dilemma about removing your dress.”

“Yeah, Maura. I'm probably gonna just stop talking now and follow my instincts, okay?”

“Mmmmm. Yes, Jane, you have excellent instincts...Oh, god!”

Jane had obviously opted for her third choice, ripped Maura's thong off, picked her up and flipped her onto the bed, then buried her face between Maura's legs. Maura didn't exactly stop talking, but whatever she had to say became unintelligible and what may have been words were interspersed with moans and cries, the last of which was accompanied by orgasmic spasms that seemed to extend to her toes.

When she was sure she'd carried Maura through the last throes of her orgasm, Jane crawled slowly up Maura's body, licking and kissing each area that attracted her attention. It was a rather long journey, but she noticed that Maura didn't complain. By the time her lips reached Maura's perfect mouth, Jane was feeling very proud of herself.

“I have never seen you looking more smug, Jane Rizzoli, and that is saying a great deal.”

“And I'm nowhere near done, Doctor Isles.”

“Perhaps not, my gorgeous detective, but I claim the next session as my turn.” Maura reached around Jane's back and unclipped her bra. As Jane rose to toss the bra out of the bed, Maura took the opportunity to remove Jane's underwear. Then she reached behind herself and unfastened her own bra. As Maura slowly peeled it away and let it fall beyond the edge of the bed, Jane stared at the most beautiful pair of breasts she'd ever seen.

“Jane?” Maura's voice was low, almost shy.

“Maura, you are exquisite,” Jane whispered.

Maura started to respond, but no words came out. She ducked her head, looked back up at Jane and whispered back, “That's the same word that reverberates between my ears so often when I look at you, Jane.”

“Me? Maura, have you looked in a mirror? There's no comparison.”

“Oh, Jane, you know I can't lie. It's true. You, my unbelievably sexy woman, are gorgeous.”

“I refuse to argue with you about it. Not when I can think of so many better things to do with my mouth, Babe.” Jane proved her point by licking, nuzzling, and sucking Maura's breasts, slowly and adoringly.

“Hmmm. Okay. This actually will work rather nicely,” Maura breathed, laid back and slid one thigh between Jane's two as Jane settled over her. Jane moaned into the breast she was concentrating on at the moment. Maura raised her thigh and pushed upward on Jane's hips, causing the busy but compliant woman to arch her body over Maura's. Maura then slowly moved her hand between her thigh and Jane's center.

“Oh, god, Maura!”

Maura smiled and suppressed a chuckle. She knew Jane had been preoccupied but, really? “Is this okay, Jane?”

“Oh, god, yes, Maura,” Jane groaned into Maura's neck, breasts apparently forgotten for the moment.

Maura managed to slip two fingers into Jane and gasped at how soft, warm and luscious she found Jane's core to be. “You're perfect,” she whispered into Jane's ear as the brunette began moving against Maura's hand and thigh.

“More, Maura. Oh, god, so good. More, please, Sweetie,” Jane moaned, aware of Maura's fingers, the pressure between her legs, and Maura's breasts pressed against Jane's as she rhythmically moved over the smaller but incredibly strong woman.

Maura pulled her hand back and, on the next thrust, returned with three fingers inside. She began to move her thumb over Jane's clit and immediately thought she probably should have waited. The combination caused an instantaneous reaction.

Jane cried out, bucked her hips against Maura with each cry, then ground herself against Maura's hand with a deep growl. Maura could feel Jane's orgasm fluttering around her fingers as Jane clenched tightly. The sensation, coupled with Jane's thigh between Maura's legs grinding into her, brought Maura to orgasm again.

Maura's voice blended with Jane's cry as they rocked together.

Eventually, their movements subsided, their voices lowered to whimpers and mews, their bodies slowly relaxed and melted into each other. But they didn't speak for awhile.

Finally, Jane murmured into Maura's hair, “Do you think it's gonna be like that every time? Cause I don't know if I can take it, Maur.”

A sleepy smile spread Maura's lips. “Oh, Jane, you're in excellent shape and so am I. We'll be fine.”

 

The End.


End file.
